Miracle:7b
by m3thod-mak3r
Summary: Aideen is a senior in college, struggling to pay her way through her final year of school. Between work and tests, she loses time for everything...even her own heart. Perhaps a man who doesn't even have a heart of his own can get it back for her..
1. Ordinary Day

Authors Note: "There's a bad moon on the rise..."

Yep indeed, I have returned with yet another romance series to distract me from 'Stranger Than Fiction'. I can't blame Aeirth08 for the idea for this one, but she did threaten to flay me with a dull butterknife if I didn't continue this series, so I guess that counts for something.

All I really want you people to know is that I am not a hopeless romantic, honest. I'm not any kind of romantic. I don't know where these stories keep coming from. It scares me. It really does. My brain is really working against my character on this one. Eep.

I apologize ahead of time for the lack of canon, the unabashed fluff, the depth-less characters and cruddy plotline. I know there are people out there shrieking 'Mary-Sue!' and 'I hate non canon pairings!' already. If you are one of those people, pass this puppy by and go read 'Thunder Struck' instead. If you aren't, please suspend your good taste and set your leniency levels to maximum. And always remember: romance is not m3thod-mak3r's thing. Peace out.

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Everyone, even the most common of men, deserves a miracle at least once in their lives. In a world sore for lack of magic, the wearied soul needs the lift of the extraordinary to buoy it through troughs of depression or even the crushing ordinary. Unfortunately, miracles run on a lottery system (no pun intended), so unless you can spare a trip to Lourdes, you simply have to wait your turn. The unfortunate thing about miracles is that they seem to pass over the completely hopeless; those who are so dampened by sorrow that they can't even pray. Occasionally, there is a soul on the precipice of this rotten despair, clinging to a scant dream of something wonderful just beyond their reach. We can only hope that these teetering few are visited by their miracle soon, before their belief in magic dries up completely, and leaves they heart to curdle. One such soul was Aideen Krelborne..

Aideen had entered her final year of collage in September, and was working hard to pay for her last year of education through her employment at Michael's Arts and Crafts. As with any minimum wage job, her work at Micheal's was physically difficult at times but not intellectually stimulating in the least. During the long, lonely hours spent cleaning the store near closing, she often fantasized about shanking her more difficult managers with a box cutter. Aideen found that the most amusing part of these imaginings was finding a semi-logical justification for the crime to avoid hypothetical jail time, though she was sure any jury who had worked under her bosses would never convict her. When not in a particularly vengeful mood, she would mentally review coursework or compose poetry to a boyfriend she didn't have. Couples who asked her where the wedding section was were often surprised by her icy hostility. These imaginings are worth mentioning only because they are the apex of interest in Aideen's life; the only thing that separates her existence from the thousands of other similarly situated pay-as-you-go college students. To review the rest of her actions, and indeed, her thoughts, would be and exercise in boredom at best.

As far as physical appearance, Aideen was notable only for her mediocrity. Her body type was obscured by ill fitting Walmart brand jeans and polos, not to mention an unflattering red apron bearing the cheerful tag, "Hello! My name is: Aideen I'm in charge of: Customer Service" which was a lie since her mangers would rather die than let her join their ranks and be in charge of anything (or so she thought). Aideen always wore her straight, mousy hair in a tight pony tail, a style which did nothing for her face but keep hair from sticking to her lips. Only the cheapest makeup was in her price range, which she refused to buy anyway because her friend had once told her it caused skin cancer. Perhaps her only truly beautiful trait was her general polite shyness, which had developed fairly recently when she realized she had nothing of importance or consequence to say to anyone.

At 8:27 PM on a Thursday evening, Aideen was knee deep in bottles of glue in aisle 7b. General manager Sarah had given her the task of restocking what amounted to 15 feet worth of shelving and heaving the overstock to the top shelf for storage. Hefting one bottle of Elmers glue is a small task, but Aideen knew too well that a box full of glue was a weighty and unwieldily burden indeed. Once, a few weeks after her initial employment in the summer before Freshman year, her arms gave out and she dumped a medium-sized box full of modge podge all over 7b, which was fortunately devoid of customers at the time. Had someone been in the aisle, they would have been severely concussed...or dead. However, after four years of box-lifting, Aideen was considerably stronger and many times more careful. She managed to drag a box stuffed with Aleene's distinctive gold-colored bottles of glue to the top shelf without dropping so much as a single piece of stock on her head, a feat she thought merited at least a 25 cent raise. It was around then when her miracle walked in.

Aideen was about to sling another box of tacky glue onto the shelf when a man slunk into the aisle. Generally, Aideen payed as much attention to customers as she did potted plants or umbrella stands, but this person was simply so..different..he was impossible to ignore. For one thing, everything about him was loud. Aideen couldn't find any other way of putting it. Even though the man drifted as silently as a cat along the aisle, he had a riotous, almost dangerous air about him. _Like Dionysus_. thought Aideen _Plenty of fun, but don't you dare forget he's a god._

The man was dressed in a tight black shirt, which highlighted his rather anorexic-looking figure. This was complimented by heavy black jeans with long chains hanging from the belt loops. At twenty something, Aideen thought most people were too mature for the goth look, but apparently, this man had missed that memo._ Gawd, it even looks like he's wearing eyeliner. _Aideen realized. But that wasn't even the most bizarre thing about him. The man had dyed his hair a brilliant red (if Aideen had been in the paint aisle at the time, she could had picked out which shade) and spiked it so it added nearly a foot to his already considerable height. Aideen thought his weekly bill for hair care products might be more than she made in a month. And yet...somehow he looked almost...familiar? The gears in Aideen's mind began turn slowly. _With THAT hair? No way I could have forgotten his face completely._

Then it clicked. Sighing heavily, Aideen bounced down the ladder and stared boldly up at the man's face. "Can I...help you?" he asked, looking rather annoyed.

Aideen massaged her forehead. "Yep. It's him. Man, I told them they can't put me in the glue aisle all day. They didn't believe me last time, but jeez. These fumes get in your head. I can't believe I'm seeing stuff again." she moaned.

"Wait...seeing what now?" the man asked, putting down the bottle of 'Krazy Glue' he was holding. He looked almost concerned. Almost.

"No no no. I'm not talking to you. Last time I started talking to a hallucination, I nearly got fired, and boy do I need this job. I'm just gonna take a little walk around the store, and when I come back, you're actually gonna be a shopping cart or something." Aideen said.

"So wait...I'm a hallucination? What the Hell are you on, lady?" asked them man, crossing his arms and laughing outright.

"Glue fumes, apparently. There's no way YOU could be real." she said, grinning a little in spite of herself.

"'Cause I'm so damn sexy?" the man said with a smirk.

"Nah. Because you're Axel or something, from the video game my niece plays. Kingdom Hearts? Yeah that's it. Anyway, video game characters don't exist in the real world, ergo, I am unintentionally high on glue." she said with a wink.

The smile instantly dropped of Axel's face. "You recognize me?" he asked.

"I couldn't forget hair like that if I tried. My brain must have slipped up though. You're not wearing that trenchcoat of yours. And where are your teardrop tattoos hmm?" she asked, examining his face.

"Uh..." said Axel, looking awkward. He was hiding something.

"I bet you're wearing makeup, aren't you?" said Aideen slyly, leaning in a little closer to his face. Since he wasn't real, she didn't think it mattered if she invaded his private space.

"Uhhhh..." replied Axel, looking to the left and massaging the nape of his neck with one hand.

"Heh. I knew it. No wonder people think you're gay." Said Aideen in triumph as she turned on her heel.

"Hey! I'm NOT gay! Get back here." demanded Axel.

Aideen laughed into her hand, "Pretty insistent for a hallucination. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm telling you, I need this job. Enjoy your glue, pretty boy." Aideen made it about halfway down the aisle when she overheard snaps of conversation from the aisle to her right.

"Did you see that guy's hair?"

"Yeah and..."

"Really RED!..."

_Wait so...some customers saw this guy too? So maybe he's actually..._thought Aideen.

"Decided to stay and play, beautiful?" asked Axel, grinning ambiguously. His tone was impossible to read. Mocking, earnest or flirty, there was not way to tell.

Before Axel could interpret her movement, Aideen spun around and flung a bottle of tacky glue directly at Axel's head. Impulsive and rash? Yes, but Aideen simply had to know if Axel was real or not. (If the bottle crashed into the display behind him, she decided, he was simply a shopping cart after all.) Aideen felt as though she was in some bizarre reality just a little left of her own, and the end of 7b was the one-way threshold back to her normal, boring existence. If she didn't get her answer about Axel's realness now, she never would, and the incident would simply remain in her mind, unresolved and as mysterious as Mona Lisa's (Axel's?) smile.

Aideen watched as her pitch flew true, the bottle arching toward it's target with genuine determination. Surprise crossed Axel's face, but seconds before the bottle could make impact with his nose, it burst into flames and melted to the floor with a single thick 'plop'. The mixture of sizzling plastic and superheated glue bubbled near Axel's black shoes like the leavings of a seriously ill bird. "You shouldn't have done that." he said in a flat, deadly voice. Aideen was so surprised at the bottle's sudden deconstruction that she barely had the sense to comprehend the magnitude of the event. The magical burning of the glue meant that this was actually the real Axel, somehow pried from his fictional setting and imposed on the mundane reality of Michael's Arts and Crafts. She had proven him 'real' and for that...

"Can't have you blabbing about who I am, can I? You humans just ruin everything for yourselves. I'm going to have to kill you." Axel said, frowning at her as he stalked forward. _Oh come on! Where are the customers now!? They won't leave me alone when I'm trying to do work!!_ Aideen thought as she backed into a box and fell to the dirty linoleum. As she tried to scrabble backwards, Axel leered over her, practically straddling her prone form as he threatened her with a spiny circular weapon that he had apparently snatched from nowhere.

"Good night." Axel said, smirking as he prepared to strike Aideen.

Back throbbing against the ugly floor and shelves of glue soaring up around her pointing towards the flat glare of halogen lighting, Aideen could not think of a worse place to die. _Hell no. Not at my fucking job which I HATE. HELL no. _Out of self defense options and faced with her imminent demise, Aideen pulled that last card any women has to play, "RAPE!" she shouted as loud as she could, her scream cutting across the Michael's muzak like a dull blade. Shock stayed Axel's hand for the crucial second it took for Aideen to worm away from his strike range. "RAAAAAPE! Oh GOD!!!" She yelled again, and was rewarded by the sound of feet pattering from every corner of the store. Not wanting to expose his video game heritage, Axel allowed his weapon to dissipate into darkness. Shooting Aideen one last spiteful glare, he ran down the aisle just as the first customer rounded the corner.

"The red haired guy! Get him!" The man shouted as Axel dodged around him and headed for the exit. Aideen listened to the shouts of his frustrated pursuers grow fainter as they stormed out of the store and across the parking lot. _Feeling a little faint meself._ Aideen thought unhappily, struggling to stay calm and conscious. It felt as though someone had pummeled her back with a plank of wood, and her heart was still working overtime out of fear. _I wonder what would have happened if he had stabbed me with that thing? I guess I would have just bled out on the floor until some customer tripped on my arm and figured out that it wasn't red paint that I was covered in._ She was vaguely aware of someone shouting her name, probably a MOD concerned about a lawsuit being filed by either Aideen or her attacker. Aideen was hoping that Axel was feeling the sting of vigilante justice, though she doubted he was that easily captured. "I'm okay I'm okay..." she mumbled, trying to stand. No less than three pairs of hands kept her on the floor as Sarah the general manager demanded, "Aideen, what happened? Are you alright? Sit down for a moment while you tell us..."

Calling on reserves of theatrical talent she didn't know she had, Aideen began to sob out her tale. The tears were real, but the story.. "I was...I was just p-putting the overstock when tha-that guy asked me to come down a-and tell him where some-something was." she wiped her nose with her apron and continued, "I came d-down the ladder but when I was on the b-bottom step he..he..he kicked me in the back! I fell over and he-he said that he had a knife that I had to go with him to the stock room r-right away or he would stab me. He said he was going to...going to...to." Aideen stopped trying to talk over her tears and simply let her adrenaline take over.

"Call the police!" General manager Sarah said sternly to a sales associate at Aideen's side.

"Already did." Front end manager Kelly said, sounding extremely self important. "And an ambulance too, just in case."

"No..really I'm...I'm okay. Really...I'll just go in the break room and wait for the police to arrive. Really." Aideen insisted. She was no medical expert, but she was fairly sure that kick to the back bruises and fell on the floor bruises looked somewhat different. The managers allowed her to hobble to the back of the store, and demanded the rest of the employees leave her alone for awhile. Aideen was unsure if this was for her benefit, or because they still had a store to run 'attempted rape' or no.

When she was finally free of well-wishers and concerned cashiers, Aideen made herself a cup of instant hot coco from the communal supply and considered what had just happened to her. She doubted the police would ever catch Axel, distinctive red hair or no, since he was a video game character and probably had other weird video game powers that allowed him to evade capture. _Damn. Too bad I didn't pay more attention to that stupid game._ She thought angrily, stirring her hot coco with vigor. _Then I might know a little more about this guy than just 'he had red hair and teardrop tattoos'. GAY tattoos. Like a mime._ That last thought cheered her up a little bit. Unfortunately her optimism did not last when she realized that he might be back to get even. She had, after all, publicly humiliated him and caused him to be run out of a craft store. He did not strike her as the type who was accustomed to being one-upped. _Balls._ She cursed as she sipped her drink. She knew that she had gotten lucky, managing to escape Axel's interest in murder with what was mostly chance. Axel would probably attack her before she had enough luck to escape again.


	2. Gravity

After she had drained her coco to it's powdery dregs, Aideen reluctantly returned to the sales floor. _The term 'the show must go on' could really apply to any underpaid, overworked employee. _She grumpily noted. This was not an entirely accurate assessment of the situation, as General Manager Sarah had offered Aideen the rest of the day off, but psychopathic murderer or no, Aideen had rent due at the end of the week and the last thing she wanted was to be stalked and homeless. However, as she her battered sneakers flapped through the threshold from the break room to the sale's floor, Aideen was sorely tempted to take General Manager Sarah up on her offer. Even on days when she had not been threatened with death by video game villains, she never looked forward to tackling the stresses on 'the floor'. Now that she had Axel to worry about, Aideen wasn't sure if she could maintain her calm, robot-like demeanor when the inevitable pissy customer began to hassle her about the price of stickers or some similarly useless item.

Glancing nervously over her shoulder, Aideen made her way to 7b to find that someone had put the remaining glue in topstock and wrenched the smoldering pile of melted glue bottle off the linoleum. She supposed that if anyone asked how a bottle of glue had spontaneously combusted and left a peculiar pile of plastic in the middle of the aisle, Aideen could just say that a customer did it. _Which is almost true._ Aideen considered as she sluggishly made her way to Customer Service, to see if General Manager Sarah had any new tasks for her.

Much to her own annoyance, Aideen continued to look over her shoulder and jump at small noises for the remainder of her shift. Once, she almost punched a customer whose's voice happened to sound a little like Axel's when he unexpectedly asked her where the posterboard was. Perhaps noticing that Aideen's nerves were not as steady as usual, General Manager Sarah had her work in the stock room for the rest of the evening, processing freight into piles arranged by their location in the store. Though this task prevented Aideen from threatening customers, it also isolated her, leaving her alone with her morbid imagination in the warehouselike stockroom. She thought about how she was an easy target, alone in the back room...how Axel could quite easily sneak up behind her and stab her with that strange circular weapon of his and leave her to die where no one would find her until closing...of course the outside doors were locked, but did that matter to a video game character? And he had no earthly way of knowing where she was in the store, but then again, he wasn't exactly 'earthly'...Aideen counted her time in the number of boxes she rearranged, sure that between every 'thump' of strained cardboard falling against cardboard she would hear that smooth chuckle, perhaps an "I'm back, beautiful." then the swish-splat of that weapon burying it's spines in her back...

When closing time finally rolled around, Aideen was escorted out of the store by a small swarm of her concerned fellow employees. Everyone anxiously eyed the dark parking lot as though Aideen's attacker might materialize suddenly and snatch her out from under their noses.

"Do you think he's a serial rapist?" One excited cashier hypothesized eagerly as the group passed in and out of orange streetlights on their way to Aideen's car. "One of those sickos who only gets off from killing people?"

"That doesn't make any sense though. Why would he try to rape Aideen right in public? I mean, I thought those kind of people were smart. Like, bad smart." Said one of the more astute framers.

Aideen flinched uncomfortably. If part time framers could find holes in her story, she was sure fully trained policemen could as well.

Finally Aideen reached her car, and waved her entourage away with a thin smile. As honorable as their intentions were, she did not think even the entire staff of Michael's Arts and Crafts would have a chance against Axel if he choose to attack, particularly because they overwhelmingly large and middle aged. After she assured her anxious co-workers with a little parting wave, Aideen gingerly tugged open her car's driver side door. In almost every sense, the car defied logic. It was older than any driveable car should be, broken down to the point where simply starting it appeared to be an impossibility. Yet, the car remained stubbornly functional, possibly held together by the joy of tormenting its unfortunate owner.

As Aideen leaned forward to clip herself into the torn seat, she felt something hot at metallic touch her throat.

"Hello poppet." came a voice from the shadowy back seat. Axel. "Nasty little trick you pulled back there. Too bad it didn't work for long. I'm gonna kill you just the same. Now."

Briefly Aideen recalled her young niece facing off with Axel, though she had done it using a controller and her opponent existed only on the TV screen. His weapons had seemed comical then, like two cartoonish wagon wheels, but they didn't seem quite as funny when they were pressed against her neck...

"Why?" she asked quietly, trying to keep a frightened flutter from her voice. "Why do you have to kill me?"

"Because M'dear, as I explained in brief before, you know that Organization VIII exists in your world now. Suppose you were to report us to your authorities, or even manage to alert this world's Keybearer to our presence? That would get us in a nasty little mess, right?"

"There's no Keyblade here. That kind of thing just doesn't..." Aideen began.

"Doesn't happen you say? Well honey, hate to break it to you, but there is a Keyblade wielder here, somewhere. Their abilities are suppressed by their disbelief in magic, thank God, but if they realize video game characters can 'come alive', the just might believe they could wield a Keyblade, see?"

"Who am I gonna tell?" pointed out Aideen.

"Who knows? But either way, It's easier just to pluck out your voicebox." Said Axel, pressing his chakram's point deeper into Aideen's flesh. " but think of it this way, you won't be alone. Just the first in a long line of Organization induced casualties. Maybe you'll get to come back as a Dusk, who knows, right?"

"If you're going to kill me, hurry up. Don't torment me. There's no need." said Aideen stiffly. Despite her best efforts, she still sounded scared. She didn't want to die. Not yet. Not here. But if she was to be murdered, she thought that she deserved at least a little dignity.

Axel was struck by her tone. No reedy whining or pathetic pleading for additional breathes. Clearly she was frightened, but she was refined enough to at least try to hide it. _She's almost...brave?_

Aideen felt the point withdraw from her neck, uncorking only a trickle of blood. Spinning around in her seat, she saw the barest traces of black smoke in her car. Then they dissipated, pretending they hand never been there at all. Axel was gone, probably by implementing the same supernatural transport he had used to evade his pursuers.

Willing (perhaps wishing) the whole incident had been a result of her overactive imagination, Aideen jammed her car key into the ignition and wrestled with it. "He wasn't magic. I imagined the bottle burning up, that's why it was gone when I came back from break. Just some crazy guy who happened to look a little like some dumb video game character who is probably rotting in jail with rape charges piled on his ass. I just imagined him being in the car because I spent two hours freaking myself out when I was alone in the stockroom. I..." Aideen was interrupted by a tap on her window. Gasping in fear, Aideen jumped and looked up, expecting to see Axel glaring into her car, perhaps threatening her with one of his stupid, spiky wheels. Instead, the concerned, round face of a fellow sales associate peeping in through the glass. Heart still racing, Aideen rolled down her window and tried to smile winningly upward.

"I thought I saw someone sitting behind you in the car. Are you okay?" the sales associate asked, trying to look over Aideen's shoulder, in case some degenerate crook had managed to secret himself away behind her car seat.

"N-no. I'm okay I was just..." Aideen began nervously.

"Oh my God! Aideen what happened to your neck!" the sales associate nearly shrieked, pointing at a thin line of blood running like a black line from Aideen's neck to the collar of her shirt.

"What oh that.." Aideen said unhappily, touching the stream of wet blood, "I just...nicked myself on the metal clip end of the seat belt when I pulled it across. It's a really tiny cut."

"Are you sure? I could drive you home." the sales associate asked, leaning in close to evaluate the severity of the wound for herself.

"No, really, I'm fine." Aideen insisted, though her hands were shaking badly.

"You seem pretty frightened." the sales associate noted suspiciously, "Are you sure you're okay? Nobody's holding a gun to your head or anything like that?"

"Nope, nobody. Listen, I'm fine okay? But thanks for asking." Aideen said earnestly.

"You sure?"

"Sure."

"Alright then. See you tomorrow." The sales associate said, pulling back from the car.

"Friday. I don't have another shift until Friday." Aideen corrected, taking another stab at starting her car.

"Friday then. See you." the sales associate nodded.

Aideen made a noncommital sound that could be taken as agreement and began to pull away, still badly frightened. The blood on her neck was absolute proof; Organization VIII really had become real.


	3. Listen To Your Heart

As Aideen drove off, her car's jerky movements reflecting her anxieties, Axel watched her from across the parking lot, shadows lapping at his heels. "Fuck." he sniped. His eyes, dark and narrow with concern, did little justice to the writhing distress behind them. The Organization operated under the rigor of self imposed rules which the older members in particular pitilessly enforced. 'Obey the Superior' came first, but keeping the Organization's secrecy was a close second. Axel felt no particular fidelity toward the group of which he was so coincidentally a member, but he did enjoy living enough to play by their rules. Leaving the girl alive jeopardized his precious life, and demonstrated a damning sort of weakness which Axel found annoying in others and disgusting in himself. _Granted nobody knows that SHE knows…but still better safe than sorry kept me alive…well for awhile anyway. Mostly a matter of insurance really. Shit. _Axel hadn't smoked in his home world, on the account that Marlboros were hard to come by in The World that Never Was, but now he tapped an unfiltered cigarette into his hand from a laminated box. Lighting it with the tip of his pointer finger, Axel stuck the cigarette in his mouth and frowned smoke out of it. _I'll keep an eye on her. See if she really doesn't have anyone to tell. I mean Hell, better than working in the lab with Vexen._

After burning off the white paper, Axel flicked his butt into the street and warped to temporary Organization headquarters. The 'abandoned' warehouse had none of the sleek exterior charm of their original castle, but it proved and inconspicuous base of operations for the villainous guild. After his unceremonious arrival to the 'real' world, Vexen had the scientific-minded foresight to acquire the warehouse and begin equipping it with all the trimmings of a fine evil epicenter. As much as Axel despised Vexen, he had to admit that the older man's survival skills were admirable; Vexen started on Earth with nothing but his standard issue Organization cloak, supernatural powers and brain, and managed to secure a secluded laboratory and begin equipping it before Lexaeus showed up. Based on Lexaeus' arrival time, and subsequent appearances by deceased Organization members, the 'brain trust' came to the conclusion that time ran oddly between the two realities. This was particularly annoying for Vexen, because while he had to wait nearly a month for his basement-dwelling companion to show, Larxene appeared on Earth only three days after Lexaeus finally appeared, though the three of them died at approximately equal intervals apart.

By the time Axel, the Organization's most recently deceased member, arrived, the warehouse was already equipped with an impressive array of equipment for surveillance of the new world, alongside the older experiments which were meant to return the Organization's hearts. The interior décor retained its surgical white color scheme, which apparently gave Zexion slight snowblindness every time he worked under the bright lights in the bioscience lab.

Axel warped into the main lobby/lounge where Organization members spent their time if they were feeling social. An impressive flat screen glowered over uncomfortable looking white couches where four black-clad Organization members sprawled in stark contrast. Larxene had once again usurped the best seat, indelicately flopped across the centermost couch. Demyx sat to her left, trying not to ruffle the hem of her cloak which would surely provoke a violent response. Hulking and quiet, Xaldin didn't even flinch when Axel appeared, apparently completely engrossed in whatever History channel program was on. Unfortunately for Axel, the final dark form was Marluxia, who wrinkled his nose as Axel walked up to the group.

"I don't need Zexion's nose to tell you've been smoking again. Ass." Marluxia said offhandedly. "And if you light up in here, I'll be sure to tell Vexen, Lexaeus and Zexion. Apparently the smoke does awful things to their equipment."

"How can a man with so much estrogen and so little penis be such a massive tool?" Axel asked aloud, exaggerating his inflection and rolling his eyes.

"Get out of here." Xaldin growled, his low, powerful voice vibrating the lowest registers his vocal chords could create.

Axel sauntered over to the couches, allowing his patent cocky swagger to swing his hips. "Oh come _on_. Grow up you guys. Gonna take my Barbies and put your hands on my side of the car seat too?"

Marluxia turned around, his eyes dangerously squinty. "You didn't steal our lunch money Axel. You murdered some of us, betrayed all of us and brought about the downfall of the organization which gave us some scant shot at humanity. So forgive us for being a little cold."

"Heh." Axel laughed as he stalked toward the more intimate regions of the warehouse, turning a cool back on his hostile co-workers. _There's a TV in my room anyway, with some DVDs that are way hotter than some lame ass Hitler channel special._

Axel was partway down the residential hallway when he heard the quiet patter of feminine feet behind him.

"Don't need your pity Larxene." He said without slowing down.

"How long have you worked with me? Pity? Seriously Axel? Seriously? Demyx wanted to know if you got his glue. He doesn't want to be seen talking to you." Larxene retorted, defensive that anyone would consider her somewhat human.

"Oh no. Didn't have it." Axel lied smoothly as he reached his door.

"Michael's Arts and Crafts didn't have glue? Please. Try a little harder for my sake." Larxene scoffed, catching Axel's door when he tried to close it on her face.

"Larxene, it would just be better for me if you didn't know. Just tell Demyx I don't have it, okay?" Axel said seriously.

Scowling up at him, Larxene took her hand away from the door and backed off. "Fine. You wanna be all tight ass about this? Just remember who the Hell kept you alive when you got here." Then she walked back toward the lounge, literally sparking with ill temper.

Axel shut his door slowly, closing his eyes briefly. _Should have killed the bitch. _He thought, feeling unusually heavy. Stripping off his punk clothes, Axel donned his Organization cloak instead, which folded and hissed more stealthily than street attire. Dissipating into smoke, Axel willed himself to the interior of Michaels, so he could research the identity of the girl. _If anyone knows her business, it's her employer. If 'Michael's' operates like the Organization anyway._

--

Aideen pulled up in front of her crumbling apartment building, wincing as broken glass crunched under her car's thin tires. A flat would tamper with her precariously arranged financial situation and leave her stranded in the grim parking lot alone. Shady characters, either gang members or drug dealers, flitted in and out of shadows like mobile nightmares. Residents of the apartments were either robbers or robbed, and at least once a week, police were called to break up a dispute between husbands and wives, rival dealers or turf-craving gangs. Aideen managed to slide under the radar of most opportunistic predators, suffering only the loss of her car radio within her first few weeks of tenancy, but she knew it was only a matter of time before she and her purse were violently separated.

After practically sprinting across the parking lot and up three flights of stairs, Aideen unlocked her room with frightful desperation, slamming the door behind her as though she were being pursued. A quick perusal of her three room flat proved the space Axel free, which took the edge off of Aideen's subtle terror. In truth, the apartment was probably no safer than her car or Michael's, but even so, the presence of her familiar things in their familiar context comforted her. Settling down in front of her laptop, an expense required by her college, Aideen took the machine out of sleep mode and instantly began research Kingdom Hearts in general and Axel specifically. It was a strange feeling to immerse herself in the fandom of a character she actually met. She knew vaguely that he was a villain in a video game, but she hadn't realized that he had 12 friends to back him up. Aideen memorized the faces of the other Organization members, but she come to the grim conclusion that she either wouldn't see them coming, or the Zexion one would disguise them with some sort of clever illusion. _Hell, they could pretend to be my best friend or something._ She made a mental note to ask every person she met some probing personal question to validate their authenticity. The fact that each Organization member controlled a specific element also disturbed her. _Spontaneous human combustion…a landslide…a lightning strike…drowning in my bathtub…it would look like an accident. I guess that's what they want. Maybe that's why Axel ran off; if someone found me in my car with spinning blade thing marks…chakram marks rather, on my neck, people would ask questions. _Aideen was so intent on researching aspects of the Organization that might contribute to her death, she almost missed why the Organization formed in the first place. However, the Wikipedia page on the Organization provided her with some insight:

"**Organization XIII** (XIII機関, _Jūsan Kikan_**?**) is a fictional group of characters featured in Square Enix and Buena Vista Games' _Kingdom Hearts_ video game series. _Kingdom Hearts_ is a crossover of various Disney settings based in a universe made specifically for the series. The group is comprised of thirteen Nobodies, beings without hearts. The name is derived from the fact that there are thirteen members in the group.

The Organization was originally introduced in _Kingdom Hearts Final Mix_'s unlockable trailer, "Another Side, Another Story deep dive", where the Japanese was translated as "the Thirteenth Order", then as the "Organization" in the game _Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories_ where they serve as the main antagonists. The Organization returns as the main antagonists in _Kingdom Hearts II_ where they seek to use the power of Kingdom Hearts to become complete beings.1 "

"'Become complete beings'?" She read aloud, her voice ringing strange and hollow in her empty apartment. It was a curious concept, but she wasn't concerned enough about her enemies well being to delve too deeply into the philosophical implications of the text.

In spite of the fact that she had coursework to complete, Aideen researched Organization 13 late into the night, her face lit in a ghostly cast by the flickering blue of her computer screen. Normal humans couldn't stand a chance against the fighting force of Organization 13, but with a little knowledge, Aideen though she might be able to avoid them.


	4. Bad Reputation

Opening his dark portal directly into the 'Michael's Arts and Crafts' office was one of the best choices Axel made all night, though he didn't know it at the time. Mounted above the sales floor, lurking in the higher reaches of ebony encompassed by the warehouse ceiling, were armed motion sensors keeping watch over beads, scrapbook paper and other craft related flotsam. Since the office's only access door connect to the sales floor, designer assumed that such careful measures were unnecessary in the smaller space. To be fair, those designers did not anticipate Organization 13.

Axel was disappointed to find that Michael's kept fewer tabs on their employees than the Superior did. Though thicker than most, Aideen's file contained only her initial application, direct deposit information, 3 or 4 wavers and a series of semi-annual employee assessments. Glancing through these, Axel established Aideen never scored higher than a 6 out of 10 on her 'teamwork' portion of these assessments, apparently preferring to complete her work alone. _Why the Hell is that a problem?_ Axel wondered. In every other respect, Aideen was a model employee, scoring 9's and 10's on 'knowledge of protocol', 'friendliness', 'effort', 'timeliness', and many other boring categories. Try as he might, Axel could not picture the Superior hunched over an employee evaluation sheet, fretting over the weighty difference between '6' and '7', wondering if Lexaeus deserved the higher score for, 'ability to manage money'. _Being a human manager must really blow. I wonder if not killing coworkers falls under 'teamwork' or 'trustworthiness'? I'd probably get a negative score._

Axel smirked as he flipped to the final page of the report. Here, several managers left favorable comments about Aideen's character and dedication to her work. A few mentioned her quiet manner, though they also noted that her shy personality rarely undermined relationships with coworkers and that she at least played open with customers. Even on paper, Aideen's apparent niceness and sincerity disgusted Axel, the way that trucks used to carry trash still stink when empty. At the bottom of the comment page, tight, smallish words formed a somewhat different account of Aideen. Their cramped lines described her as hopelessly slow, displeasingly aloof and nothing sort of a burden to the rest of the store. Glancing through the other evaluations, Axel noticed that Mr. or Mrs. 'stick up the ass' as he came to call them, never wavered in their dislike of Aideen. "Aideen Krelborne continues to lag behind coworkers with similar seniority in respect to public relations and grasp of store policy." The commentator claimed, undaunted by the wash of positive views around their writing. No signature laid claim to the harsh remarks, and Axel didn't waste time investigating who bore the grudge; Miss Aideen Krelborne might not even be alive much longer to annoy the person anyway.

_Let's see…Aideen. Quiet, unassuming kind of chick. Boring even. Probably covers for her coworkers, picking up their shifts and weak shit like that. Spends a Hell of a lot of time here. Damn. I'd rather watch paint dry than read her autobiography._ Axel thought bitterly as he returned the file to its proper place. _At least, until the chapter I came in._ Then he disappeared in a whirl of darkness, leaving behind only the faint smells of cigarettes and cinnamon.

--

That night, after finishing her Organization 13 research, Aideen set her alarm back by two hours. She knew that she would miss her first class, but she decided that she didn't care. It was a senior portfolio class; required for all English majors but rarely useful. More often than not, the 50 minutes allegedly spent on refining applications, revising essays or primping articles was dedicated to reading material for other courses. The professor met this blatant rebellion with apathy, busily working on his own scholarly pieces rather than teaching or disciplining the large class. He rarely even took role. Ordinarily, Aideen wouldn't miss class unless physically unable to attend, like the time she got food poisoning from bad tuna. Nearly being murdered by a video game character did not physically incapacitate her, but mentally she felt utterly waterlogged and tired.

Images of Axel and his accomplices scampered around Aideen's consciousness, making her weary with anxiety. Recovering from trauma was not a mere desire; no, it was essential she convinced herself, setting her alarm back and swelling with pride at her own bravado. Then, she took a pair of Tylenol PM on an empty stomach because she felt sufficiently guilty about willfully skipping class that she couldn't sleep soundly.

The next day, she woke ahead of her alarm in habit and went to class anyway.

--

While Aideen labored through her senior portfolio class, Axel slunk through the converted warehouse, aiming for silence and scarcity. He and the other 'muscle' of Organization 13 had little to do in the new world since killing its inhabitants failed to render hearts to harvest and no Keyblade wielder to inconvenience their studies. There weren't even any Heartless scuttling about in nightmare droves, preying on the civilians who swarmed the streets, ignorant of magic. Vexen, Lexaeus and Zexion occasionally called on one member or another to help with specialized tasks (Larxene, for example, was an unsurprisingly adapt electrical engineer), but beyond that, there were no missions to attend to, no nefarious plans to execute. Despite this lull in action, Marluxia insisted upon running the battered Organization like a military unit, acting on the notion that only discipline would entice their hearts' reappearance. Soon after Axel arrived on Earth, Marluxia tried to order him on some kind of recon mission in the capital of the United States of America. Axel met this request with impressive eye-rolling and a theatrical sigh before asking lazily, "Who died and elected you Superior? Not me." Marluxia did not take kindly to this cutting remark. Even so, he persisted with his attempts at militaristic management, often bullying Organization 13 members to do his inane bidding. Axel never complied with these demands, but all the same, he didn't want to bother brushing off the persistent Marluxia.

Oozing down the hallway, Axel came to Larxene's quarters and rapped on her door with a gloved knuckle. Vexen, Marluxia and Lexaeus all agreed that Organization members should continue to wear their uniforms as a mark of fidelity to the cause and to "Maintain a professional appearance befitting an organization of our caliber and sophistication." Axel privately thought that the leadership wanted everything to look ship-shape in case Sora got the upper hand and sent Xemnas to Earth.

"Enter!" Larxene shouted, though her voice barely penetrated the soundproof door and walls of her living quarters. Axel stood in front of the nearly seamless wall, and the door revealed itself by sliding open with a futuristic swish. Inside the large room, Larxene was jogging on a treadmill, sweating but refusing the indignity of panting. A large wall-mounted flat screen TV played an old episode of "House" at high volume, apparently intended to distract Larxene from the rigors of her routine. Like his own quarters, Larxene had a large living room, a private bathroom and a bedroom at her disposal, though she choose to convert her space into an exercise room while Axel's contained an impressive array of electronics. "Whatcha want, Carrot Top?" Larxene asked, dialing down the sound on the TV and slowing the pace on her treadmill. Axel stepped into the room and allowed the door to slip closed behind him.

"Shit. You aren't going to ask me why Mommy gets really hungry and angry once a month are you? I told you guys a thousand times I am not your private encyclopedia on feminine hygiene. There's the internet for that you know." Larxene swiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand with no effect, since her entire body was thoroughly soaked. Smiling to himself, Axel admired Larxene in her sports bra and tiny exercise shorts. _Say what you want about her personality. The girl's got looks._ Aloud he said, "I do have a girly question, but it doesn't involve what your ovaries do in your spare time. Actually, it's more of a second opinion kinda thing."

"Shoot." Larxene said before grabbing a water bottle from a mini-fridge and chugging the drink mannishly, accidentally spilling some down her chin and mouth. "Some girl I met. She was real easy going and friendly when I first met her, but all other sources report her as dull. Why the difference in behavior?" Larxene raised her eyebrows, "Damn Axel. Researching the sensitivities of the female mind? I'd be touched if I thought you actually gave a shit about this chick. This have to do with the Michael's incident?" "Yeah." Axel admitted, "And I give two shits about her, but not for some 'emotional' reason. Obviously." Axel made little air quotes around the word 'emotional'.

Continuing to clean herself up, Larxene grabbed a towel from a small cabinet next to the mini-fridge and tried to dry her brow again. "At first listen, sounds like she was really into you. But even that doesn't make sense, since shy girls tend to get shier around people they like, right? Not to mention you have a fucking horrible personality. Was she on drugs the first time you met her? Slipping people roofies again Axel?" She teased wickedly. Axel rolled his eyes, "Only you need to try that hard, crazy bitch. Some of us are attractive enough to get laid without substance abuse. As for drugs…she thought she was high I guess you could say?" Larxene stared blankly at Axel. "Thought she was high? Bloody Hell Axel, what kind of kinky stuff you getting into these days? I guess…now I'm no psychologist here, but if she felt that she had a reason to abandon her inhibitions, maybe she could ah…come out of her shell a little?" Considering this, Axel played with a 10 pound weight from Larxene's set, "Makes sense. I was thinking along those lines. What are the chances of her getting to that state again? Real loose lipped I mean?" he asked. "Naturally? Probably nothing short of a miracle. But if she got high for real or drunk? Who knows." Larxene mused. Then she turned back to Axel, "Did I just give her the death sentence?" There was no concern in that voice; no compassion or guilt, just sheer curiosity. Axel shrugged, "Maybe. Chick's not a real party animal. People probably wouldn't believe her anyway. I mean, gonna take some drink girl on her word?" "She find out about the Organization Axel?" Larxene asked coolly, twisting at her antenna-like hair. "Nothing that dire." Axel lied, replacing the weight on its rack. After a moment of silence, Axel spoke again, "Still playing Marluxia's lapdog?"

With a snort of unattractive laughter, Larxene tossed her towel into a laundry chute. The garment would be washed, dried and returned to her by a rather clever automated system of Demyx's invention. "Hell no. Got me killed the first time around." "He's asking about you. Seems to think we're involved." Axel stated, his tone revealing nothing. "He always was a possessive little bastard. All things considered, I can't blame him for thinking my taste in men is that bad." Larxene sniped. She didn't like talking about Marluxia. "What's he going to do if Sora wins? Go after the Superior again?" Axel asked. Larxene shrugged one shoulder in a careless sort of way, "Who knows? I talk about this kind of thing as little as possible with him. I don't want to make any choices until I can size up both sides." "That's very you. Good to know you've learned." Axel said, smirking loftily. "I'll send you straight to Hell Axel. Everyone will thank me." Larxene said dispassionately before adding, "Where are you planning on lining up?"

Axel simply smiled and backed out of Larxene's room, leaving her irritated and wondering.


End file.
